I feel my weight atop her body in the early hours of the morning
Out, across the room, the rise and fall of her breast in the light of a lamp
There are freckles on her knees
I count them
Lose track
Start again
When I look up at her face she has closed her eyes against the light
I watch her lashes whisper across her cheeks
Her eyes drift left and right beyond the veil
I wonder what she dreams of
I wonder if she knows I dream of her
How can she bear my weight, even in sleep
She shoulders my yoke and her own
and we share
a quiet soft thing
In the morning when I have woken and she sleeps softly on
I will make coffee and pour a glass of water
I will look out through the window at the roses in the garden
I will feel her weight atop me through the floorboards
I will feel her yoke and mine
I will kiss her awake and ask what she dreamt of
I will tell her I dreamt of her
When the cool night comes round again I will count her freckles once more
I will feel my weight atop her
I will breath her in
I will watch her shadow on the wall
We will share then too,
A quiet soft thing
And again and again we will feel and count and watch
Again and again until there is no more again to be had anywhere
And then, when the quiet soft thing has crisped up into nothing at all
I will feel my non-weight atop hers
And I too will close my eyes against the light
And we will sleep together, and dream of each other
Jan 14
Jan 14, 2026 at 5:11 PM UTC
I feel my weight atop her body in the early hours of the morning
Out, across the room, the rise and fall of her breast in the light of a lamp
There are freckles on her knees
I count them
Lose track
Start again
When I look up at her face she has closed her eyes against the light
I watch her lashes whisper across her cheeks
Her eyes drift left and right beyond the veil
I wonder what she dreams of
I wonder if she knows I dream of her
How can she bear my weight, even in sleep
She shoulders my yoke and her own
and we share
a quiet soft thing
In the morning when I have woken and she sleeps softly on
I will make coffee and pour a glass of water
I will look out through the window at the roses in the garden
I will feel her weight atop me through the floorboards
I will feel her yoke and mine
I will kiss her awake and ask what she dreamt of
I will tell her I dreamt of her
When the cool night comes round again I will count her freckles once more
I will feel my weight atop her
I will breath her in
I will watch her shadow on the wall
We will share then too,
A quiet soft thing
And again and again we will feel and count and watch
Again and again until there is no more again to be had anywhere
And then, when the quiet soft thing has crisped up into nothing at all
I will feel my non-weight atop hers
And I too will close my eyes against the light
And we will sleep together, and dream of each other
